


The Light He Brings

by mingowow



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Supernatural Elements, jun is mentioned a lot but he never actually appears, the leftovers universe, there are lighter moments too though i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:07:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingowow/pseuds/mingowow
Summary: This Mr. Yoon guy, he travels all over the country with a small following that Soonyoung calls his supporters. It sounds more like a cult to Minghao, but he doesn’t interrupt because the next thing he’s told resonates with something deep inside his chest. Soonyoung says so many people follow this guy around because he can heal them.---On October 14th, 2% of the entire world’s population had disappeared in front of countless eyes and witnesses. Over 140 million people here one second and gone the next. And nobody could account for why it had happened.





	The Light He Brings

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS NOTE ITS VERY IMPORTANT!!!
> 
> there is no actual character death in this story but it deals with the sudden disappearance of millions of people (including jun specifically in this story) and i wanted to make note of it in case the loss of him upset anyone/was something anyone didn't want to read, or even if the general idea of loss upset anyone.
> 
> ***there's also elements of depression in this story and other conditions, such as survivor guilt*** if you feel like i should tag anything else specifically, please let me know!!
> 
> this story is based on the book/tv series 'the leftovers'. if you aren't familiar with it, the basic gist is that 140 million people all suddenly vanished into thin air one day and nobody knows what happens to them. the book/show and this story cover how some of the people still around (aka the leftovers) live through the situation. i took some creative liberties of course.
> 
> rated m for some pretty strong language and darker elements/moods.
> 
> if you still decide to read this, i hope you enjoy it as i thoroughly enjoyed writing it since it was different for me. it's unbeta'd so i apologize for any mistakes and if it's at all sloppy; it's been a doozy writing it. 
> 
> also: i'm very aware that minghao isn't like this irl but given the situation in the story, hopefully it's understood why he acts how he does.
> 
> thank you!!

Minghao had been getting a new piercing. 

At this point, he had practically lost count of how many he had and it had become routine that whenever something was upsetting him (to the bone, to his core), he’d go out and get another. He and Jun, his idiotic weirdo of a best friend and roommate, had gotten into a tiff that escalated well off their normal every day bickering chart. So when a bike ride around the neighborhood and a stop at his favorite fishcake stand didn’t ease his anger, he stopped by his regular shop for another hole in his face.

But he never got it. Because just as the technician was lining up to pierce through his cartilage, he disappeared. Into thin air, gone, vanished, like he had never been there at all. It took Minghao a good twenty seconds to register what had happened; he assumed he was dreaming, which was a relief because fighting with Jun was the fucking worst. But after pinching his arm enough times to leave a few small red welts and hearing the horrifying shrieks of people outside the shop, he realized that it was actually reality. The guy who went by Tae, with tattoos that crawled up the length of his neck and the backs of his hands, who had given him all of the new additions to his ears that he had gotten whilst living in Korea... he had evaporated right in front of Minghao’s eyes. And he hadn’t been the only one to vanish.

On October 14th, 2% of the entire world’s population had disappeared in front of countless eyes and witnesses. Over 140 million people here one second and gone the next. Children went missing from sleeping in their beds, drivers evaporated from behind the wheels of their cars, people from all around the globe were just suddenly gone. The phenomenon was given a dramatic newsworthy name: the Departure. And nobody could account for why it had happened.

There was speculation, of course. Many religious nuts came out of the woodwork and insisted it was the rapture, the second coming of Christ, the apocalypse... Minghao could never keep up with the different spiritual mumbo jumbo explanations. He had never been a big believer in anything, let alone organized religion. And the thought of that being the cause made even less sense in his mind when he finally made his way home that day, noting the television was left on and the kitchen sink was freely running with nobody home. In time, he came to realize that his moronic ass of a roommate and best friend had gone and Departed. What a selfish asshole.

See, if the event had been the rapture, where all the good, faithful, and righteous were taken to heaven or the Spirit in the Sky or what the hell ever, then Jun wouldn’t have been one of them. Because Jun was a prick (Minghao insisted for years anyway, straight to his face too) and despite how much he of course cared for his best friend, he couldn’t believe for a second that the good Lord himself would choose to “save” him over so many other people in the world.

Maybe, deep down, he could fathom it. But he never let himself fully accept that explanation because it had to be a load of bullshit. The residual anger that consumed him fueled all of his doubts too. While most people around him clutched onto some kind of explanation, Minghao never did. He was an island that burned with both rage and guilt.

When Minghao visited his parents two years after the Departure, he had talked to them about how he missed childhood. He missed the good memories he had made in China, how free and happy and carefree he was. But his mother reminded him that when he was a young boy, all he talked about was how badly he wanted to grow up and become an adult. He’d whine about how immature his classmates and the neighborhood kids were and how there was nothing interesting or exciting to do until he was all grown up. She told that when we look back on the past, we sometimes romanticize it. We remember only the good things, we enhance the positive moments, and recall it so fondly until it eats away at us with its nostalgia.

This made sense to Minghao when he started recalling his late best friend (late was a strange term to use; there was no proof Jun had died) more kindly and favorably. He’d remember how he could hear Jun laugh from the other side of their apartment and how he was always so diligent about keeping the fridge stocked with food. Truthfully, he had been Minghao’s first friend when he moved to Korea and without him, he may have never adjusted to life in a new country. Jun had helped him learn basic Korean, he had taught him how to figure out bus schedules and routes, he kept him company and never seemed to judge if Minghao had shed tears over missing home or his family.

It takes him two years and seven months of Jun being gone for him to accept how much he misses the other boy. The feeling is a rock in the pit of his stomach and nothing helps it dissipate; no amount of new piercings or steaming fishcakes or bike rides.

One day while he is drinking a beer outside his apartment, his inebriated neighbor Soonyoung babbles on about this guy he’s heard about, through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance of someone’s cousin. They call him Mr. Yoon, which Minghao thinks is hilarious because it’s so vague and obnoxious, but he listens anyway because Soonyoung usually has interesting stories.

This Mr. Yoon guy, he travels all over the country with a small following that Soonyoung calls his supporters. It sounds more like a cult to Minghao, but he doesn’t interrupt because the next thing he’s told resonates with something deep inside his chest. 

Soonyoung says so many people follow this guy around because he can heal them. It’s not some physical healing, he’s not Jesus for Christ’s sake, but it’s something more... spiritually inclined. He attracts people, the ones who are still suffering so awfully because they lost loved ones with no warning and no explanation, and he takes their pain away. Soonyoung states it so simply, even in his slurred words that Minghao can’t bring himself to question how the hell he exactly makes their pain disappear. But he does ask the older male if he knows how he can find him.

Soonyoung finds out the time and place of Mr. Yoon’s next meeting and Minghao asks if he will be attending because while Minghao had lost someone important to him, Soonyoung had lost many someones: his parents, his sister, and his best friend. 

How quickly Soonyoung declines catches him off guard because if anyone should be seeking healing, it should be Minghao’s neighbor. The news had hounded the guy nonstop since The Departure because he had lost his entire family and then some, which made him the poster child for the tragedy the event brought. His every day persona didn’t reflect such loss though; he smiles and laughs more than anyone Minghao knows. He has every right to curl up and barricade himself in his apartment, to accept any and all pity showered upon him, but he doesn’t. He seems to be handling everything much better than Minghao and he only lost one person close to him.

Maybe Soonyoung doesn’t need to be healed, he ponders that night, wide awake in bed. So a few days later, he attends the meeting alone. Just because he has nothing better to do, of course.

It’s weird he thinks, that this supposed elite group meets in the basement of an office building with nothing more than a big circle of folding chairs and a jumbo box of instant coffee. He can tell right away who the probable scam artist’s followers are; they seem relaxed and well rested, groomed well and even smiling. The others there, he assumes, are like him. They look lost or confused or apprehensive about being there in the first place. Minghao has half the mind to leave but suddenly he feels a large presence beside him and he’s cornered.

“Are you... are you with them?” the tall, tanned boy asks him abruptly. The bags under his eyes are prominent and he looks as though he hasn’t properly brushed his hair all day. Despite that, there’s something about his face that makes Minghao stare for a long second before his brain tells him to reply.

“Um, them?” he asks confusedly, nodding towards the very obvious group of well-adjusted people chatting over coffee. It’s a stupid question because clearly he’s just as uncomfortable and unsure as the rest of the normal people in the room. “No.”

“Oh. Good.” There’s a lapse in silence and two males openly stare at each other. Minghao notes the smallest birthmark on the tip of his nose. “Do you know which one is _him_?” 

Minghao shakes his head and is about to let the other know that he knows nothing, he doesn’t even know why he’s here really, ‘so stop asking me fucking questions because I can tell by the look in your big dumb eyes that you want to ask me a dozen more’. But before he can even open his mouth, the back doors in the room open and in enter two males. 

Their presence causes a wave of quiet to sweep over the room. The ones deemed followers set into motion and move about the room to their respected places while the actual guests to the meeting openly stare, Minghao included.

The two men are younger than he had thought they'd be. The name Mr. Yoon had conjured up images in his head of someone that was the opposite of a surprisingly attractive young man with long chestnut colored haired pulled back in a ponytail. He didn't have to introduce himself to let Minghao know who he was; he could tell that the long-haired guy was the one everyone else was there to see. The aura he gave off screamed it.

The other beside him looked a little meeker, perhaps kinder. His hair was short and clean and as stupid as Minghao knew it sounded, there was something trustworthy about his features. He looked somehow too genuine to be in a place like this.

"Please, everyone sit," the one Minghao deems Mr. Yoon's right hand man instructs them, his voice very easy to listen to. 

The tan guy standing beside Minghao doesn't waste a second in approaching the circle of chairs and claiming one for his own. He makes a note to take a seat as far away from the talkative stranger as he can.

Mr. Yoon doesn't say anything but everyone openly gawks at him. One woman even begins to sob at the mere sight of him when he briefly makes eye contact with her. Part of Minghao wants to laugh because it seems so tense and overdramatic. 

Yoon's right hand man does most of the talking, which Minghao deems a smart technique by them because his voice is smooth and comforting. He introduces himself as Joshua and asks the terrified-looking individuals in the circle of chairs to share their stories: their worries, their fears, the things that haunt them.

Everyone there seems to have lost someone on October 14th. One elderly woman tells how she lost both of her grandchildren, that she had raised and were living with her. They were 7 and 10 years old. Another man talks about his wife, who was comatose, suddenly Departing. After each story, Joshua gives each and every person this warm smile and thanks them for sharing their experience.

The tall tan fellow, who introduces himself as Mingyu, shares his story too. Despite how off-putting Minghao had found him, he is so interested in hearing what had happened to him. He speaks earnestly and honestly; it seems to draw everyone in, even the stubborn Minghao.

"I was with my sister, my younger sister." For such a big man, he looks so much smaller while sitting slouched in his seat. Now looking at him without the surprise and quick annoyance, Minghao can tell how exhausted he looks. His shirt is wrinkled and his shoes are so worn that he thinks maybe he can see holes in them from halfway across the room. 

"Did your sister Depart?" Joshua inquires when Mingyu says nothing further. He shakes his head a few times.

"Our parents did. They had run out to do errands and I was watching her and they just... never came home. Their car was found in a parking garage." 

The room has been silent since everyone began telling their personal stories, but the awareness of how quiet it is really hits Minghao then. He supposes everyone feels pained and burdened and angry and confused; he does too, whether he admits it openly or not. And hearing everyone else's stories just amplifies that feeling for him. Something awful bubbles inside him.

"I handled it pretty well, I think. I mean, I was a kid but she was even more a kid, you know? And our grandparents took care of us but really I was the one taking care of her. Because I knew what she was going through, I felt that... abandonment too. And that's the worst part, you see. When you understand and know someone else's pain but you can't do anything about it. You can't make it go away. That's the worst."

Mr. Yoon had been silent the entire time, attentively listening (or so he made it look like). Minghao sees from the corner of his eye that he leans over and whispers something in Joshua's ear. 

"Thank you for sharing your story," Joshua repeats again, the same smile slipping onto his face. His legs are crossed and his hands delicately clasped against his knee. He shares a look with Mr. Yoon and Minghao thinks this is it, finally the bastard is going to talk. But Joshua shifts his gaze to him, to the skeptical Chinese transplant Xu Minghao, and slowly he can feel the lasers of so many other sets of eyes in the room. "You're the last person. Please, share with us."

"Oh, um, I don't have anything to tell." It's not a full lie really because he has no desire to share his sob story with a bunch of strangers. He only came here out of curiosity, because he knew this Mr. Yoon dickhead had to be a scammer and he wanted to see the proof with his own two eyes.

"You wouldn't have come all the way here if you didn't have something that is weighing on you. Something burdening you or holding you back. What's your name?"

"Minghao." Minghao feels his right eye twitch and he's about to go off on the guy, because that's what he does when he's made to feel so uncomfortable like this. But instead the twitching continues and before he knows it, there's this burning sensation that he tries to blink away. No tears fall but he can feel them pooling in his eyes and he hates it so much because this doesn’t happen to him.

"Tell us," Joshua insists and there's that damn smile again. Minghao hastily wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, sucking back any tears that might threaten to fall.

"I didn't lose a parent or a spouse or a child or anything like that. So really, I don't have anything to add." He becomes so self-conscious of the fact that he's almost fucking crying in front of all these people that don't know him at all and he hates how he feels weak, he feels so tired and upset and lost because dammit, Jun _was_ his family in one way or another. But putting that into actual words seems so difficult.

He catches Mingyu watching him with the saddest damn eyes he's ever seen, like he pities him or something. And that, for whatever reason, makes him start talking. Babbling, practically. 

"His name was Jun and we were best friends. He was my only friend, really. He was the only person here that actually cared about me, in some fucked up way." Joshua nods his head, like he _gets_ it or something, which is absurd because the guy looks like he has been loved and showered in the purest affection his entire life.

"Thank you for sharing."

Minghao wipes at his face again and he blinks his eyes into focus when he hears a new voice.

"You've all lost someone dear to you, someone you loved or cared about. And without any answers, how can you be expected to cope and deal with that loss?" Mr. Yoon asks them, rhetorically. He rubs his hands together slowly and Minghao would find it weird if he wasn't anticipating what the mysterious man would do next. Everything is weird about this. "You're here because you've heard stories about how I can help you, right?"

There's a chorus of nods and some verbalized assertions but Minghao doesn't move a finger.

"Some of you might not believe everything you've heard. And I assure you, some stories are fabricated. I can't cure cancer or heal mental illnesses. There’s no walking on water either. But if you want it, if you truly want it and need it, I can help you with another kind of pain, the kind that you have all so bravely shared with us today. But you have to really want it. It's a mutual exchange, you have to be ready for it. So..." Mr. Yoon stands and takes a few steps out towards the center of the circle. "Who needs their pain taken away?"

It's absurd. It's so absurd and ridiculous and what a fucking hack. Minghao watches person after person as they are embraced by this long-haired fool and how he squeezes them and strokes their hair and whispers fake, cheap words into their ears. And each and every time, they step back with a stunned face and loose limbs. 

They have to be plants, people working for this scammer to make it seem legit, because the way they seem to be relieved of all their anguish, how some laugh and sometimes even cry with pure joy, it's such a sham. Minghao watches as the tanned guy, Mingyu, hesitantly is engulfed in a tight hug, Mr. Yoon's arms wrapped around him like he's a giant child. Mingyu cries out suddenly, his body shaking with sobs and his knees grow weak enough that he falls down to the ground and tugs the other man with him. But when he pulls back, Mr. Yoon smiles at him and strokes back his dark hair like he is comforting a little boy. And Mingyu smiles so brightly, it’s like Minghao is staring at the sun. He doesn’t understand it.

Minghao is once again the only one left and Mr. Yoon steps towards him slowly, wringing his knotty fingers together like he's about to go to work on something serious. 

"How do you feel?" he asks Minghao with a tilt of his head. 

"It has to be mutual, right?" Mr. Yoon nods once. "I don't want it." He doesn’t know why, besides the fact that he thinks this is a hoax. If it was a hoax, then trying it out wouldn’t matter, right? Nothing would happen anyway. But Minghao doesn’t want the guy touching him at all. He’s never been a huge fan of physical affection to begin with, let alone from some pseudo-hippie who claims to drink the sorrow out of poor naive common folk as if he’s a heroic spiritual Dracula. 

He can feel the eyes of everyone in the room openly staring at him, like he's psychotic. He knows what he had just witnessed, the supposed emotional and spiritual healing of nearly a dozen people, but he can't believe it. He can't buy into it.

Mr Yoon smiles at him and it isn't vindictive or insincere, which is strange to him because he feels like the man should be insulted. But all he does is nod again and tell him, "I understand."

 _You couldn’t_ , he thinks. 

Minghao doesn't sleep that night or much at all for the rest of the week. 

There's another meeting a week later near Jamsil and though he's not entirely sure why, Minghao finds himself attending. The group is larger this time, almost doubled, and he recognizes some of the faces who seem to acknowledge him too, based on their smiles and nods in his direction. 

That tall, annoying Mingyu guy is there too.

"You're back," he states obviously after approaching Minghao a mere two minutes after his arrival.

"Yep." He's short and already annoyed but Mingyu seems oblivious, due to the small smile that twists the corners of his lips upward. "Why are you here? Didn't he hug all your pain away last time?" It's snarky and rude but Minghao doesn't care.

"He did. I'm here for support, to help." Minghao blinks at him, noting for the first time that the taller man looks much more put together than the first time they met. His clothes are pressed and clean, his hair neatly styled and brushed off his forehead. He looks well rested and rather handsome, if Minghao looks closely enough. 

"Ah, so you've been initiated into the cult?" Mingyu laughs loudly and Minghao notes the gleam from his sharp canines as they reveal themselves when his smile widens. His laugh causes a rumble in Minghao’s chest and he clenches his jaw because his first assumption is that it’s irritation. But it feels different from the other times he’s been aggravated.

"It's not a cult," Mingyu insists, reaching a hand up and grasping Minghao's shoulder. Minghao doesn't get the urge to shove him away; he can't determine why.

He watches again, he listens again, he observes again. Each person tells their story, who they lost and where they were and how they had been handling it. And again, Minghao witnesses their supposed healing. The laughter, the looks of peace, the cries of relief. He keeps a lingering eye on Mingyu too, as he talks with the newly healed afterwards, when Mr. Yoon is shuffled away by Joshua to rest. Sucking the pain out of people really tires him out, evidently.

It becomes a routine, like attending the movies every Friday night or a baseball game every weekend. Each meeting, Minghao shows up. He doesn't tell his story anymore and Joshua doesn't ask him to. He just acts as a spectator, as if he's watching a live performance piece each time.

Mingyu talks to him more and more, every time, until it gets to the point where Minghao finds himself growing fond of the stupidly attractive and suspiciously kind-hearted man. His annoyance dies down and it blossoms into a genuine likeness, a highlight of his visits to these meetings, though he'd never voice that out loud. 

Sometimes they even spend time together outside of the meetings, like actual acquaintances. 

Mingyu tells him all about his family, about growing up in Korea and these little anecdotes that are so random and personal that sometimes Minghao wonders why he is the one they are being shared with. Things about his sister, his parents, his childhood friends, his first kiss, bumps and bruises. But he understands it eventually, when he accepts the realization that Mingyu has become a friend, someone he actually cares about. That's rare, he admits to himself.

It's been four months since he first attended and he's essentially a part of Yoon's Disciples, as he and Mingyu began to (jokingly) call it. He's still not sure how much he believes in Mr. Yoon's ability. But whether or not it's an actual healing of some kind or a placebo effect, he can't deny the good the man seems to be doing. He isn't charging them any money and Minghao wonders why, he wonders how he can afford to keep this lifestyle up like this without an income. But Mingyu tells him one day how he heard that he has bigger clients, of the politic sort, that he milks for cash.

"How Robin Hood of him," Minghao replies dryly and Mingyu grins around the straw of his iced coffee. 

"How come you haven't done it yet?"

"Done what yet?" Mingyu looks at him blankly and then it registers in Minghao's mind that he means.

He doesn't have an answer or at least an answer he wants to publicly share. While Minghao isn't certain how real Mr. Yoon's abilities are, more and more the belief that maybe he is actually taking people's suffering from them is making sense. And that's part of what he fears, that the man will hug him and he will feel it, he will experience it for himself and realize how stubborn and ignorant he had been for so long... just because he didn't want to be wrong and have hope in something that maybe wasn't real.

"I wish I could take it away for you," Mingyu admits softly and it's so weirdly intimate and pure that Minghao feels uncomfortable enough to shift in his seat. Heat rushes to his face and he can't meet the sad puppy eyes the other flashes at him because it makes his stomach twist in such a strange way. 

(“That's the worst part, you see. When you understand and know someone else's pain but you can't do anything about it. You can't make it go away.” Minghao remembers those words as if he heard them yesterday.)

"You're so melodramatic," he lies through his teeth, flicking the other's ear which causes him to whimper. But after the shortest of pouts, he laughs. And Minghao finds himself laughing too.

Laughter becomes a regular element of his life again. It's nice, even to a Scrooge like him.

It's nearly a year when Minghao realizes how being one of Yoon's Disciples has clearly taken over his life. He barely even stops by his own apartment, usually traveling and sleeping in vans or on floors of those that will let anyone associated with the great and mighty Mr. Yoon shack up at their place for a night or two. He feels like a vagrant, dust in the wind flitting around, which only sinks in more when he gets wind from Soonyoung that he's effectively been evicted and his apartment given to a new tenant. 

It's his own fault, absolutely. Because after Jun went poof, he never bothered looking for a new roommate. The rent was hard to make on his own but the thought of someone else living in Jun's room, sleeping where he slept and sitting on the couch beside Minghao doing awful impressions of the MCs on the TV... god, it was worth shouldering the cost by himself. 

But considering he hadn't stepped foot in the place in nearly three months (only Soonyoung had, to water the plants Minghao couldn't have cared less about. "Just because you don't care doesn't mean they should have to suffer and die, man"), he knew in the back of his mind that it was only a matter of time before he lost the place. Somehow losing it like this was easier, instead of willingly moving out and giving it up. He wasn't walking away from the memories he and Jun had made there, or so he told himself. It was being taken from him, his hands were clean.

(They weren’t really, he knows that.)

"I tried to keep some of the boxes when your shit was getting cleaned out," Soonyoung tells him over a weak and fading phone signal. The basement they are staying in for the evening is practically a dead zone. 

"It's fine. You can just toss it." Minghao doesn't see the need for any of the things he left behind in the apartment. The stuff that was essential, things like clothes and food and water and somewhere to sleep, he had all of that already. The rest of his old belongings were just... unnecessary.

"Oh." There's a lapse of silence and Minghao thinks maybe the call has been dropped. But then Soonyoung clears his throat. "Some of it's Jun's stuff though, Hao."

Minghao doesn't say anything and even if he's been a shitty friend lately, even if he didn't tell Soonyoung that he was taking off or what he was even doing (it's not that there was an obligation to; they weren't _close_ really, but in a world where Minghao had next to no friends, it was nice having a casual one out there). Soonyoung was still so good to him; he didn't ask many questions and he did such thoughtful things like watering the damn plants and saving his belongings. He doesn't know what he did to deserve such a genuinely wonderful person in his corner and that guilt eats at him, because Minghao knows he has been awful.

Even if they weren’t close, he knows Soonyoung had lost so much already. Minghao might not have Departed but he basically disappeared anyway.

"I'm sorry, Soonyoung." He doesn’t elaborate but he hopes the other knows the apology is for many different things. He thinks he might understand that, maybe.

"Hey, naw.” Soonyoung laughs, it’s unbelievable but he does. “I'll just hold onto it until you come back home. No problem, man." Minghao doesn’t know if that will happen but the thought of not seeing Soonyoung again is one he doesn’t enjoy.

"Why don't you come here? You can join us and... I don’t know. Maybe he can help you." He swears he hears Soonyoung smile through the phone but Minghao can feel it's not the normal cheery, bright kind he's so used to seeing his friend wear.

"Yeah. I don't think I'm up for that yet." Minghao understands, he really does. He makes a promise to call more often and Soonyoung’s mood perks right back up.

In time, Minghao starts to easily build a rapport with Joshua. He learns the guy is a lover of Mahjong when one of their host families happens to have a set of tiles and gifts it to them as a parting gift. They bond over their interest in the game and Joshua shows him how to play the three person Korean way. There are moments that he’s reminded of Jun when he is with Joshua and while at first it is so bittersweet, Minghao begins to appreciate the nostalgia and occasional deja vu. 

Mingyu is recruited and like the good soldier he has already proved himself to be, he learns the game quickly and becomes a devote and loyal lover of it as well. Minghao almost feels like they are a dysfunctional family (or a cult, he still jokes from time to time. And Mingyu still always laughs until his canines show.)

Joshua is so kind and well-spoken; Minghao finds himself at ease when they are together, which is maybe strange because some of the other followers become so nervous in his presence. It's probably because of his closeness with Mr. Yoon, a relationship Minghao hasn't entirely figured out yet, and how while the long-haired saver of the people is the star, Joshua is clearly the foundation of the operation. Mr. Yoon would probably look like a fool without him (more of a fool than Minghao thought he was at first).

Any questions Minghao had about the connection between the two of them is erased one night a week before Christmas. The group is holed up in a church for the evening, eating rice and stew provided by the very few members left in the congregation. He wanders around the halls decorated in garland and stringed lights looking for the restroom and when he turns a corner, he sees the two of them, clutching one another with their faces so close, it’s as if they are sharing the same breaths of air. Joshua has his hands firmly grasping Mr. Yoon's head and the latter's hands are curled into Joshua's shirt. It's so private and shocking, Minghao doesn't mean to watch them but he can hear the cries that match the tone of the miraculous Yoon's voice. And he'd know the gentle, calming inflection of Joshua's voice anywhere. 

The words exchanged are mostly lost on him but he knows that Joshua was consoling him, comforting him. The name 'Jeonghan' is used over and over and it's weird thinking Mr. Yoon has a first name. Minghao realizes he had a life before the fucking Departure, just like him; a family, a life, maybe someone he lost too. The man was still so mysterious.

Whatever Joshua says seems to work, because the stiff tension in Mr. Yoon's body seems to melt away. It reminds Minghao of the countless times he has seen the long-haired man relieve the pain of others, how they go limp and relaxed like someone unplugged them from the wall. It’s jarring to see the effect happen to the one who usually causes it.

It’s then that he witnesses a kiss between the two men, so he forces himself to lift his feet (quietly) and turn back around. His brain feels foggy.

That night, he and Mingyu are laying a few feet apart and he knows the other isn't sleeping yet like the rest of their people, because no snores are emitting from him.

"I saw something earlier," he whispers, needing to tell someone because the intimacy of what he had seen was too much for him to carry all by himself. It should feel wrong to talk about but he feels like he might burst if he doesn't let it out. The encounter wasn’t upsetting or alarming but it piqued his curiosity as to what was actually happening between the two of them.

"Hm?" Mingyu hums. Minghao can hear his body turn and shift and the soft green glow of the illuminated stairs sign provides just enough brightness to highlight his perfect jawline.

"Joshua and Yoon." He doesn't know how to put it into words without sounding like a gossiping moron and while he is debating how to convey the image burned into his eyes, he hears Mingyu's airy laugh.

"You didn't know?" 

"What? You knew?"

"I thought it was obvious." Mingyu sits up a little and Minghao can see the rounded profile of his nose. His mind draws on the small dot on its tip that he knows too well. "I thought you knew too, because like... I thought you and Jun..."

"Jun and I were never like that," he interjects, maybe a bit too quickly and harshly. He can tell Mingyu stiffens not by sight but by some unseeable tension suddenly between them. "He was like my brother."

"Ah. I understand." Mingyu's head disappears out of the green light as he lays back down and rolls so his back is towards Minghao. "I apologize." 

Minghao swears he hears something laced in the apology. It registers as disappointment initially but he can't justify why that would be in the other's response. So he squeezes his eyes shut and wills away the mental picture of Joshua's softly smiling lips pressed against Mr. Yoon's sobbing face.

After that night, things start to fall apart. Meetings are suddenly cancelled, due to one reason or another. 'He is very ill right now' one day and 'he is just too exhausted' the next. Mr. Yoon makes no appearances for over a month. The Lunar New Year comes and Yoon's Disciples start to disperse slowly, one by one. The group dwindles down, from over thirty to twenty to eight, until it's just the four of them. Mr. Yoon, Joshua, Mingyu, and himself. 

It's funny to him when he thinks about it because even after all this time, after all the energy he's put in and devotion he's shown, all the sacrifices he's made... Minghao still isn't certain he believes. If someone were to ask him why he's stuck around for so long if there's still a part of him that thinks this is all an elaborate hoax, he wouldn't know what to say.

Maybe it's the camaraderie and sense of belonging. He's not cynical enough to ignore the fact that he feels like he has a group to be a part of now; it's something he is very aware of and grateful for. Mr. Yoon is someone for him to follow around and observe, to learn from and maybe silently admire. Joshua has become a solid friend and a pleasant presence. And Mingyu... well, Mingyu can't be explained well in words anymore.

Minghao has had feelings for people before. All kinds of feelings, really: familial love and platonic love and even glimpses of the romantic kind once upon a time. But the way he feels for Mingyu, it's like a combination of everything. His fondness grows and expands every day, until one day when it's just the two of them, waiting in the hallway of an office building for Joshua's assessment of whether Mr. Yoon is up for their scheduled meeting today.

Mingyu is telling some story about his childhood dog, Latte, and Minghao has heard variations of this same story many times. But he doesn't mind listening again because there's something comforting and warming about knowing exactly when Mingyu is going to grin or let out a small laugh. It’s almost like a game.

"And then my sister looped the rope of the sled around Latte's body and she just took off--" Mingyu laughs and just as the corners of his lips twitch upwards like he knew was going to happen, Minghao cuts him off.

"I love you, do you know that?"

The fact that he presented it in a question wasn't planned but Minghao is happy with his subconscious self because it sounds more sure and confident than him vulnerably spewing out his feelings like he dreaded he might do some day.

Mingyu's grin falters when it is halfway spread across his face and he blinks rapidly at Minghao like he does whenever he is certain someone is staring at him (Minghao knows everything about him, you see, so noticing those kinds of things aren't really weird, right?)

"What?" 

Minghao doesn't repeat the words but he holds gaze of his unspoken and unconfirmed companion and wills the heat in his neck and face to keep from spreading. His silence prompts Mingyu to smile and it throws Minghao off-guard because it's a look he hasn't seen the other make before (and Minghao knows _everything_ about him, remember).

It's amazing because the two have never shared a kiss or even a hug; at the most, they've held hands briefly before Minghao instinctively slipped his away. But despite the lack of physical confirmation, he knows that he will never feel for another what he feels for Mingyu. And he hopes one day he'll be able to provide affection in a way that shows how special the connection he shared with the other is. But until that time comes, Mingyu seems to be understanding enough. He always eventually smiles when Minghao flicks his forehead or shoves his shoulder away. 

"I know you do, Hao. You know I love you too," he says so easily and there's this unfamiliar swelling and bursting deep within Minghao's chest.

Minghao knows of Mingyu's affection. He is so resilient and unconditional about his affection. Minghao sometimes thinks he doesn’t deserve that but there’s a lack of guilt about it, even if he doesn’t always show his reciprocation. This makes up for all of that though, he reasons. 

He's known that the guy has had some sort of magnetic attraction to him since they first initially met. Mingyu was the annoying horsefly that would never leave him alone and always hovered around him. Chatting and staring and randomly touching, like he couldn’t keep away.

"Like a moth to a flame," Mr. Yoon had commented cryptically months ago, when Mingyu had been extra clingy and obnoxious. Minghao acted offended even if he wasn't sure what he had been referencing at the time (but that was often the case with Mr. Yoon.) It wasn't until weeks later when Joshua made a similar analogy that he realized the two men had both been talking about he and Mingyu.

And beyond his constant shadowing and need for Minghao's company, the latter has heard how he talks about him. It was never intentional, listening to a private conversation between Mingyu and Joshua or sometimes even Mr. Yoon. But once he hones in on something he knows he shouldn't be privy to, he can't help but listen.

Mingyu has sung his praises like he hung the stars in the sky. It never occurred to him that he might mean so much to someone some day. His family cares for him, sure, and Jun had too. But there is a colossal difference with this. Minghao has never experienced such kind and sweet (perhaps even untrue) words spewed about him. And for as well as Minghao knows Mingyu, it seems that was mutual. Mingyu noticed and realized so much about him.

("That was your fake laugh; what's wrong?"

"I know you heard me. Your ears turned pink."

"Why do you always insult me when you get defensive?")

"I know," Minghao finally croaks, his voice suddenly dry and his fingers twitching to reach out and grab onto the other man sitting across the hall from him. 

He leans forward to do so, the first time he's ever initiated any type of intimate contact with Mingyu. But then Joshua is suddenly in the doorway telling them that the meeting is still on for that evening. And that Mr. Yoon wants to have a word with Mingyu, alone.

That didn't happen often. Sure, despite his mysterious character and reputation, they did get to converse and convene with Mr. Yoon fairly regularly. But meetings like that, so official and ominous sounding, they weren't common. Mingyu seems to realize this too, by the way his smile falls away and his face pales.

Thankfully Joshua is there to distract Minghao from worrying too much, the two stepping outside to enjoy the last rays of daylight.

"This will be the last meeting for us." The statement is a bomb that Minghao wasn't expecting. Sure, things had been on the decline for a while now, but the thought of just... stopping? No more meetings, no more "healings", no more witnessing the saving of burdened and lost people? He thinks of it greedily too; Minghao doesn't know what he would do without this in his life. It _is_ his life.

"Why? I mean, I get that he's tired but how can he just give up helping people? That's fucking selfish." He doesn't intend for his words to sound so harsh but thankfully all Joshua does is raise an eyebrow at him.

"What has you so upset about it? Because you haven't let him help you yet?"

It's meant to sting and it does, but Minghao doesn't take the bait. "If you have a way of helping people, no matter if it's real or just in their heads, it's only right that you do it."

Joshua bobs his head a few times and blocks rays of sunlight with the back of his hand.

"He's done so much, how much do you expect one person to give? It's not easy doing what he does." Joshua stops and stands in front of Minghao, the setting sun blocked behind his head. "I met him right before it happened, did I ever tell you that? We met through a mutual friend. He was the liveliest, funniest person I had ever talked to. He was so bright and witty and affectionate. And then things changed and he received his gift... and that took its toll. Every single time he did it, every single hug, he lost a bit of that light. How is that selfish? He's the most selfless person any of us know. Jeonghan deserves a rest."

His first name has never been used like this; Minghao only knows it from the interaction he witnessed between the two of them a while back. 

He remains quiet. For once, he doesn't have anything to say back.

"It's not over though. He'll pass on the gift to someone else, just like it was given to him."

"What?" Joshua smiles in that soft way that settles Minghao's racing heart, despite what his mind tells him. This was never anything he knew about, even with how well he has eavesdropped and picked up things in all the time he has spent with Mr. Yoon and the group. 

"He'll get his rest finally and someone else will take his place. And that cycle will repeat over and over. So it's over for him now, but someone else will be there to help, in ways he's not able to anymore. Someone he trusts."

Minghao can hear the blood pumping in his ears because he's smart, you know, he understands what Joshua is alluding to and he doesn't like it. Mingyu is too bright and wonderful to let such a "gift" slowly suck the life out of him. 

So maybe he's really the selfish one, the one that doesn't want to share Mingyu with the rest of the world, no matter how much it will help and maybe even save others. It's not fair. There’s guilt that he feels too but he can’t be bothered to care in the moment because all he wants is to keep Mingyu to himself, in all his shiny obnoxiously sunny goodness.

"That's not fair. It's not fair to Mingyu," Minghao finally gets out, despite how tight and closed off his throat feels. The smile on Joshua's face is sad, something that seems so foreign and unnatural on him.

"Do you understand that now? It's not meant to be. It's not fair to you either."

That night after the meeting, where Mr. Yoon gave his last few hugs, Minghao takes Mingyu away. Not far and not permanently, but enough for them to have some uninterrupted time to talk and discuss and _decide_ because it's a decision for both of them, he's settled on that. The two of them are the next duo and Minghao doesn't know how he's supposed to smile like Joshua or calm the nerves of strangers scared out of their minds like he does. That's the opposite of who he is, really, so how is he supposed to handle that responsibility? But being by Mingyu's side, that will be the easy part. If they decide to go through with it, that is.

"Do you want to do it?" he asks with no lead-in, once he turns off the van’s engine in an empty parking garage. Mingyu was quiet the whole ride there.

"It's not for me to decide."

"Of course it fucking is," he spits and he's not angry at Mingyu, not at all. But he can't bring himself to hug him or kiss him or hold him like he wants, so his emotions come out in the form of harsh words. "We both get a say."

"What did Joshua say to you?" Mingyu asks and he looks small for once, like a scared puppy huddled in the passenger's seat. It takes him back to the first day they met, when Mingyu shared his story to Mr. Yoon and all of them. Minghao's anger disintegrates into an ache that spreads throughout his entire body.

There's wetness on his cheeks and it confuses him at first because Minghao doesn't cry, he hasn't cried in so long that he can't remember the exact time. And it's not like their first meeting, where he bit it back and held in the unexpected rush of emotions. Suddenly it's just happening. Warm, fat tears pour out from his eyes and Mingyu looks like his heart is breaking as he leans up and over the the small divider between them, stating Minghao's name over and over like it's a chant.

The feeling of being enveloped in someone's arms is so strange but Minghao's first thought is why he waited so long to let someone hold him. Mingyu's arms are so strong and firm and he feels _real_ , living skin and expanding lungs and thumping heart. He melts into the embrace and sobs uncontrollably, to the point where he has trouble evening his breathing and Mingyu has to help him.

His bones are jello and he's all but laying on top of the other, awkwardly strewn across the central console. Despite the uncomfortable position, Minghao knows he's never felt better. He feels so unburdened and light that he laughs a little, which catches Mingyu's attention and pauses the hand that had been slowly stroking Minghao's hair.

"What?" Mingyu's voice is soft and velvety and instead of trying to explain how he feels, Minghao presses their lips together. 

He knows now that it's real, that it always was. And he accepts that Mingyu really is meant to be the next Mr. Yoon.

The next morning, Minghao feels like air. He smiles when he accidentally spills his morning coffee and he takes extra time to make himself more presentable. He picks out decent clothes instead of the first thing he pulls from his unorganized duffel bag and he brushes his hair thoroughly. He thinks of Mingyu and his chest tightens but in a wonderful way that he still is not used to.

Joshua asks for the four of them to meet, all together. They play Mahjong the way Minghao did growing up.

But the sight of the drained Mr. Yoon causes Minghao's mood to dip. His brain conjures up images of Mingyu, looking worse than he had the first day they met. His eyes so sunken and body exhausted. Lips cracked and skin dull.

"You've made a decision?" Joshua asks them eventually, his voice even and gentle. Mingyu looks over at Minghao with knitted eyebrows, like he's looking for one final confirmation. They had decided together the night before to go through with it but Minghao's feet turn cold quickly.

"We can't," he interjects, just as Mingyu's lips parted to speak. "Seeing you like that, like him," he lets out in a loud breath, glancing at Mr. Yoon, who meets his eyes. "I don't want to see that happen. I don't think I could." He looks down at his hands, feeling oddly foolish. 

There's silence suddenly and he thinks that they must just be mulling over his blunt confession. It was out of character for him, sure, but he hadn't expected it to be that shocking to all of them. When he finally looks at each of their faces, he doesn't see understanding or anger or even smiles. He sees confusion. And that confuses _him_.

"Minghao--" Mingyu and Joshua both state simultaneously. Mr. Yoon raises his hand as if to silence them and he asks for the two of them to give he and Minghao a moment.

He's never felt more perplexed than he did in that moment, which says a lot about a man who has devotedly followed around a man he considered a possible fraud. 

Mingyu smiles at him softly before leaving the room beside Joshua. There's a long period of awkward (for him) silence and it eats away at Minghao until his skin feels like its itching and burning.

"What is it? Just say it. Why are you sitting there dumbly, looking at me like that?"

Mr. Yoon smiles at him and lets out the quietest of laughs. "Mingyu is right, you are so quick to be defensive."

"Can you just say it?" His voice is coated with something that he doesn't want to label as desperation but it is. Mr. Yoon's face softens at the tone and he sits up, leaning forward onto his knees.

"Do you know why they call me Mr. Yoon?" Minghao wants to scream out or punch a wall or something. But he doesn't. "Because I seem cold. I don't seem personable or approachable. No one felt at ease with me enough to call me by my first name. That's Joshua role, you know that. He makes people feel warm and comfortable. And I just step in when it's time. His role is so much more important than mine. Because without him, I come off as awful. People already think I'm a hack, so how could I do anything if I was viewed as a hack _and_ an asshole?"

Minghao blinks at him. 

"We are a lot alike, Minghao, don't you think?"

"Are you calling me an asshole?" Minghao asks. Mr. Yoon grins a little and shrugs.

"No. But you can come off that way, you are well aware of that. You bottle up things, the way that I do now. And it makes us like that occasionally. But it doesn't mean we are awful. It's to be expected sometimes, that's what Joshua has helped me understand."

"So what are you trying to tell me then? To expect Mingyu to turn into a cold prick sometimes?"

Mr. Yoon sighs and extends his hand towards the other. Minghao simply looks down at it, not reaching his own forward.

"Mingyu isn't the one it will be passed to."

"What?"

"He's not the one--"

"But he did it for me last night. He hugged me and it was like... it's what you do. He did it, he took it..." he trails off, confusion overriding any other emotion he could possibly feel in the moment. Even the guilt and selfishness.

"Joshua does the same for me."

Minghao thinks of Joshua and he thinks of Mingyu. He thinks of how the two of them are the most gentle and kind people he knows. He thinks of the ease they have conversing with strangers, of building rapport and settling their nerves. He thinks of their smiles and tenderness. He thinks of their storytelling abilities, the way they can make someone feel as though they've known them for a lifetime.

He thinks of Mingyu holding him and how his body went limp, how whatever was pent up inside of him seemed to slip away.

He thinks of Joshua embracing a sobbing Mr. Yoon in a hallway. He think of Joshua and Jeonghan, clinging to one another and how the roles were so oddly reversed.

Mingyu was the one with the warm aura and comforting smile. He was the perfect person to calm any fears or doubts anyone had; hell, he had made Minghao a believer, which nobody else had been able to accomplish. 

And of course, he realizes now, he is the perfect choice for the replacement. Minghao knows pain, he knows how to handle it. He carried the weight of Jun for years without accepting a hug that would take it away. So he can manage the burdens of others, he can swallow them and keep them down. And when it gets to the point where it’s too much (which he admits will happen one day), Mingyu will be there. Mingyu can embrace him and hold him and eradicate any pain and suffering that eats away at him.

Minghao suddenly feels better knowing that it won’t be Mingyu who withers away slowly. He’s okay with it being himself.

“If Joshua helps you so much, then why are you like this? Why are you so tired and worn down?” Mr. Yoon doesn’t seem offended by the observation.

“All lights eventually burn out, no matter the maintenance you keep.”

Minghao finally takes his opened palm and the touch burns for what feels like an eternity.

It's spring, cherry blossoms in bloom and the city is so beautiful that there are moments when he forgets anything awful happened at all. He still has bad days, the ones strung with guilt and anger. But Mingyu is there to help ease those feelings away and he can easily say he’s never felt better.

He has only tried out his gift on Soonyoung so far, after returning to his apartment to collect his and Jun's things. It's new and he's unsure of how it will affect him long term, if he will grow tired and worn like Jeonghan had (he no longer allows anyone to call him Mr. Yoon). But that night after taking away Soonyoung’s pain, when Mingyu embraces him, when he is pulled into his arms, he feels everything fade away until he's left with nothing but a warm glow radiating within him. The only thing he can compare it to is like being reborn from fire. Something inside him burns and while there’s a flash of pain, it’s worth it.

They are at a closed and quite small family owned restaurant, three floors up and tucked at the end of a short hallway. 

There aren't many people there, which doesn’t surprise him. It’s his first actual meeting and nobody knows of him yet. It's only him, Mingyu, Soonyoung and a couple of strangers: one middle-aged woman and a guy who looks to be about the same age as him. They both appear so worn and tired and the sight of them reminds him why he is there in the first place. It helps settle his nerves.

Mingyu asks the two strangers to share their stories and they do. Hearing them rips open a small wound somewhere inside Minghao and he wonders if that's how it will be every time, because it stings. The selfish part of him tells him to tune them out but he can’t bring himself to do so.

"Thank you for sharing your story, Seokmin," Mingyu tells the male, smiling at him with soft, kind eyes. He turns his head to look at Minghao and while that wound throbs in his chest, Mingyu's gaze helps ease the pain.

"I lost someone very close to me too," Minghao begins, feeling so clumsy with his words. "He was my best friend, like a brother. I came to one of these meetings when I first heard about it, but I didn’t really know why. I think deep down I wanted it to be real, the healing or fixing or whatever you want to call it. I wanted it to be so simple for someone to take away the pain and anger I was experiencing every day. But I couldn't let myself believe it was real. Maybe partly out of guilt, because I was still here and he wasn't. I don't know." 

Minghao pauses and he can feel four sets of eyes on him. He never liked the spotlight and he feels himself growing more and more uneasy. But he feels Mingyu's hand slide along his back and it forces him to take a deep breath.

"This isn't simple. Because it doesn't work unless you really want it to. I know that sounds easy; who wouldn't want to get rid of this feeling? But at first, I didn't. I held onto the guilt and the agony of it for a long time, even after I met someone who could take it away for me. I didn't really want it to go away, because I thought I deserved it. How I treated him, how I thought about him even after he Departed... I wasn't worthy of being freed of that guilt. There were so many people around me that went through so much worse and I was so angry and selfish about my own loss. Sometimes it felt like I deserved to feel that way, because I was lucky. Or luckier."

The older woman lets out a strangled crying sound. It's not very common for him to smile at strangers but he manages to give her one easily, because he knows what she feels.

"You should know that you are deserving of being unburdened. What you feel is no less or more valid than what someone else is feeling. Once I finally accepted that, then it was easy. Then I could let my pain be taken away. And how it felt when I finally let it happen... it was like I was being born over and over, living my life again and again. Like I had suffered through agony for so many lifetimes and then finally it was gone forever. There aren't words for how relieving it was. You deserve to feel that too." 

Minghao stands slowly and lifts up his arms, outstretching them. 

"So, who wants a hug?"

**Author's Note:**

> please talk to me on tumblr/twitter @ mingowow :)


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